Uncharted: A Thief's Reward
by MCArbyter117
Summary: In 1994, both Nathan Drake and his mentor, Victor Sullivan (Sully) find themselves with an artifact that may suggest that not all folklore are made up. Are they uncovering what could be a secret of wealth obscured in disbelief by time? Or could they simply be lured in an elaborate wild goose chase of a fictional treasure?
1. Chapter 1: An Accidental Hunt

**Chapter1: An Accidental Hunt**

 **Author's note:**

 **After being on hiatus from Fanfiction for years, I once again have the interest and time to start putting my ideas on paper. As a huge fan of the Uncharted series, I am impressed by Naughty Dog's work and success of not only creating a great game collection, but also telling stories of mystery and the interpretation of adventures some of the history's most renounced explorers have taken.**

 **Now that the Uncharted series has been officially completed with the release of Uncharted 4, I would like to fill in Nathan Drake's years not mentioned in the games and graphic novels with similarly interesting quests that he may have taken.**

 **I thank Naughty Dog for the Uncharted series and everyone who has taken the time to read this story.**

 **As I am always looking for improvement and ideas, reviews are greatly appreciated.**

1994

Istanbul Archeological Museum

Istanbul, Turkey

A starry night fell on the quiet city of Istanbul. A slight breeze blew along the streets, granting a brief comfort to those it touched in the midst of the hot summer season. Expecting the usual lack of events happening, the guards of the museum slowly patrolled around the century-year old granite walls of the building. Tired and with their rifles strapped loosely across their back, no one had noticed a metal claw grasped on to the ledge of one of the many open windows near the ceiling of Byzantine exhibit. A shadowy figure followed the hand as it lay crouched on top of the window ledge, tracking the movements of guards nearby. Once confident that the guards of the area had walked out of its sight, the figure slid methodically down the wall careful not to make any noise.

The figure belonging to a man whispered in the walkie-talkie clipped to his harness,

"See Sully, easy as cake."

Nathan Drake aged 19, despite being young and possessing an outwardly and light attitude, which is rare in his line of work as a treasure hunter and thief, is also a walking encyclopedia on history and gifted with wisdom beyond his age.

"Cake? You mean pie?" replied the voice on the other line.

"Eh cake, pie, doesn't matter," whispered Drake nonchalantly.

"Oh Yeah? We'll see once we get outta here with that scroll."

Sully, aka. Victor Sullivan took a puff of his Bolivar cigar as he sat in the driver seat of their get-away car staring at the cloudless night sky. His job was simple: observe the guards patrolling the perimeter of the museum and head towards the rendezvous point once Drake has gotten the Ancestral Scroll of Sultan Ahmed I. While he would very much want to personally bust the scroll of its glass confines and into the hands of their client, Sully knew his protégé was a better fit for this job. Anyways, he wanted a smoke and the kid needs practice.

As Drake made his way through the collections of the Seljuk era and into the newly renovated exhibit of the Ottoman Empire, he heard footsteps from the opposite end of the room. Drake immediately dove into the corner away from the main point of view of the room and pressed his back against the cold wall. A guard of slim build stepped into the exhibit, yawning as he walked. Drake held his breath as the guard strolled past him, unbeknownst that a man clad in black was mere feet away. Once the guard had stepped out of the room and Drake can only hear footprints as distant echoes, he then exhale. It was a close call, and Drake did not want to try his luck again when the guard return, so he quickly located the scroll and started working on key hole at the side of the display.

"Guess this thing is not as treasured to the Turkish authorities as we thought"

"Now, why would you say that?" asked Sully.

"I don't see any other security feature on this case except for a key. Hey why don't we just ask them really nicely for it?"

Sully scoffed, as an experienced thief he knows things are always more than what it seems.

"Nate, never judge a book by its cover. You don't know what's in the pages."

Ignoring Sully, Drake pulled out a replicate key that he made from a mold while scouting out the museum yesterday. He inserted the key into the hole, and pushed it all the way in, so far so good. Drake slowly turned the key clockwise and felt the mechanisms move. Sweat started to form around his forehead. Although Drake has broken into locks dozens of times, he had always felt nervous. Maybe anticipation for failure? Or excitement?

To his relief, the replicate key held on, and a satisfying click confirmed that the display case was unlocked.

Suddenly a thunderous ringing filled the museum. The alarm system has been tripped.

"Ah crap", muttered Drake as he quickly regained his posture after being startled by the alarm.

His walkie came alive, "Nate, the guards are getting jittery, what's going on?"

"I swear Sully it's not my fault, I just got the case to unlock", explained Drake as he quickly pulled open the glass display. A second ringing started to sound.

"Ok, now it's my fault."

The Ancestral Scroll of Sultan Ahmed I rested on a glass bookstand uncurled, showing the fine ink sketched into names of ancestors and descendants of Ahmed I in Turkish with thick lines of gold linking one name to another reflecting an elaborate family tree. The cloth sheet was slightly torn on the edges, a product of mishandling when the Ottoman Empire had dissolved in the early 20thcentury. The scroll was bounded to a hilt of intricate patterns of gold and pieces of sapphires befitting to a sultan.

"Hey there beautiful."

Drake quickly reached for the hilt of the scroll, curled it back up, while being careful not to damage it any further and tucked it into a poster tube he had brought.

As he made a dash back to the Byzantine exhibit where his rope lay waiting, Drake was met face to face with the slim guard he had avoided minutes ago. The guard started to yell out for his colleagues before being quickly knocked unconscious by Drake.

"So much for the clean get-away."

Seeing guards running towards him with their pistols and batons ready, Drake bolted the opposite direction, sending himself further away from the Byzantine exhibit.

"Change of plans Sully, meet me at the back of the Museum."

Trying to escape from the entrance of the building would be suicidal, not to mention with Istanbul's finest which would show up anytime. Drake has memorized the layout of the museum, so figuring how to get out was not a problem. The problem is that he didn't know how many guards are waiting for him at the loading bay.

Drake's short sprint to the back of the museum was met with little resistance, nothing he can't out-run. As he pushed open the chrome swinging doors leading to the loading bay, he felt his leg hit something hard. Drake's knees gave away and he fell on the concrete floor to an abrupt stop. As he tried to pull himself back up, his eyes caught something curved and sharp hurtling towards him. Drake's hands instinctively reached up and caught the arms holding a long and exotic-looking dagger. Drake regained focus, and he could see a dark figure trying to plunge the dagger into to his face. The figure also dressed in black was shorter, but is as strong as Drake. Although the face was clad in a balaclava, the eyes exposed looked intense. Surrounding them, Drake can spot bodies of the museum guards stretched on the floor with stab wounds.

"Can't we talk this out?" pled Drake.

The figure struggled harder, "Toz Feek!"

While Drake is fluent in many languages, he didn't exactly understand these words. But judging by the accent, he was sure it sounded Arabic and definitely not of the "friendly" category.

"Sorry I like my face the way it is," grunted Drake as he pushed the aggressor away.

His opponent regained footing and started to lunge at Drake again, but Drake was ready.

The poster tube holding the Ancestral Scroll connected with the assassin's head, causing the assassin to become disoriented. Drake took the chance to get close and after a few hooks, the assassin was left slumped on the floor.

"Well that was unexpected," mumbled Drake as he reached for a cylindrical object his opponent had dropped during their scuffle.

A closer look at his would-be assassin's sole loot, Drake's eyes widen.

Drake heard gunfire behind him, but he didn't look back as he scaled to the top of the metal fence before leaping over. To his relief Sully was there waiting for him.

"Come on, get in!"

Without thinking, Drake dove into the passenger seat through the opened window.

Sully immediately floored the gas and the car peeled into the empty street of Istanbul.

"Kid, what happened in there?"

"Eh, we had unexpected company," answered Drake, referring to himself and the guards of the museum.

Sully shook his head in disbelief, "Sounded like you guys had a party, got the scroll?"

Nate popped open the lid of the poster tube, carefully pulling out the 400-year old scroll and held it up for Sully to see.

"Nice one Nate," Sully said, satisfied that their trip was fruitful.

"Say, what's with the drum?"

Realizing that Sully had noticed the unintended loot he had snatched from the assassin, Drake took the drum out for a better view, "You're not gonna believe this Sully, this is Marjanah's duff. "


	2. Chapter 2: A New Lead

**Chapter 2: A New Lead**

"Nate, you can't be serious. You're chasing a children folklore," Sully leaned against the window sill of their hotel room overlooking a neighbouring resident with sheets and undergarments clipped on a line of clothespin. Sully never liked to spend a lot during his hunts. Knowing that they may have to run from the police or adversaries in a heartbeat, he had gotten the cheapest room.

Nathan Drake has been studying the duff all morning, running his fingers along the side, and satisfied that the name etched on the side of the oak body matched the age of the eight centuries-year-old instrument. Despite having a tough time learning to communicate vocally, Drake's grit in absorbing languages and accurately interpret them from print is second to none; at least when it comes to coarse languages and cheesy pick-up lines. Sully had taught him that it never hurts to learn the rather more colourful phrases in foreign linguistics as a treasure hunter.

With the help of an Arabic dictionary he had "acquired" from the local library, Drake is now absolutely sure the symbols spelled Marjanah.

"Sully, why would a random thief take something like this, let alone just this?"

Marjanah, or more popularly known as Morgiana was the slave girl turned daughter in law of Ali Baba in the tale of Ali Baba and the forty thieves in the collection of _One Thousand and One Night_. She was known in the story to foil the forty thieves' multiple attempts in killing Ali Baba after the latter had stumbled across their lair.

"I'm telling you Nate, the story is fake. Hell, the author probably made the whole stuff up," grunted Sully.

"Actually, Antoine Galland was an orientalist specialized in Middle Eastern studies and an archaeologist. He had heard the stories from Hanna Diab, a Christian monk from Aleppo," corrected Drake. "Most of these stories had been recorded on ancient Arabic manuscripts."

"So he claims. Nate, there is no evidence of Ali Baba in any Arabic manuscripts," argued Sully.

"Come on Sully, have some faith. This duff might give us a clue to the thieves' treasure."

Drake held the duff up over his head and squinted. What he originally thought were scuff marks under the duff now looked more intentional. With his free hand, Drake scrambled for paper and pencil on his desk and started tracing. Sully walked over and scrutinized Nate's writing, "Looks like gibberish to me."

Drake hesitated for a moment, then his eyes lit up, "It's not gibberish… if you flip it around."

After a quick alteration, the patterns have become an Arabic sentence.

With the dictionary, Drake was able to conjure up a rough estimation of the phrase:

"When the sun is at its highest…see the ghost of life …let miim guide you to the gate of wealth. Sully I think this is how to find the cave once we get there."

Sully with a disappointed look on his face replied, "That's really nice, but we don't even know where the cave is."

Undeterred, Drake said, "I bet you Antoine Galland knows more about the Treasure than what he's letting on in the story."

"Good point, but the guys been dead for more than three-hundred years, he's as useful as a life preserver on dry land."

"He isn't around anymore, but his stuff is. We just need to know where they are," explained Drake.

"They're at the Turkish Embassy in Damascus."

"Hey how did you know?" asked a shocked Drake.

"Kid, I have been in this game a lot longer than you have. A good treasure hunter should always have a decent list of friends he can rely on," said Sully motioning to the leather phonebook that he pulled out of his pocket.

Delighted, Drake begged Sully to take this hunt with him, and to fund it. But Sully seemed unassured.

"Come on, don't tell me you're too chicken to see that I'll prove you wrong," taunted Drake with chicken sound to complement.

Sully chuckled, "You couldn't even find your ass with both hands, if I'm not there to be your guardian angel. But this Galland thing is a real long shot."

After a brief thought and a chug of beer, Sully had reached his decision, "Alright against my better judgement, I'll take the bait this time. But if we don't get something out of this, you owe me for everything. Not to mention the bail money back at Cartagena."

"I was thrown in jail because your girlfriend Marlowe wouldn't take no for an answer!"

Sully countered, "You took a left! If you had taken right with me like I've said then you wouldn't have ran straight into the cops with a gun in your hand!"

Defeated, Drake turned his attention back to the duff.

"Next stop, Damascus."


End file.
